More Than Casual
by zoomthemaster
Summary: "But, well, what if I don't want this to be a casual sex thing anymore?" the brunette asks shyly, looking away from the blonde. Quinn's mouth falls open in a perfect circle. Santana feels vulnerable in the silence that follows, and it has nothing to do with the fact that she's bare naked under the covers.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Just a short story to free me from writer's block. As for my other stories, I'm working on them, but school is extremely overwhelming, so I'm trying my best. Thanks for all your support! You guys are the best! :)**

* * *

It's a common sight – Santana's head in between two pale thighs, Quinn's hands tangled in those dark locks, pressing her even closer, and moans emitting from the blonde's mouth. Santana's makeshift bed squeaks as it heaves in rhythm with the girls' bodies. When the blonde comes, with Santana's nose rubbing her clit and tongue in her pussy, her shudders shake the bed even harder, and Santana makes sure she catches every last drop with soft, delicate licks.

Santana moves up and captures Quinn's lips as the blonde moans at the taste of herself. She licks a little cum that has dribbled down Santana's chin, and the brunette breaks into a smile.

It's been two months since Will and Emma's so-called "wedding," when the two first hooked up. Twice. Neither knew who exactly started it, but it had been an ongoing occurrence ever since. The two would text each other nonstop throughout the week, and every Friday, either Santana or Quinn would hop on a train and spend the rest of the weekend wrapped in a mixture of blankets and arms.

This Friday, it's Quinn's turn to come down from that prestigious Ivy League of hers to Santana's (and Rachel's and Kurt's) little place they call "home." Santana's been looking forward to Quinn's visit all week, mainly because that's all she can think about these days.

"I'm tired," Quinn sighs lightly, arching her back as she stretches. Her nose wrinkles as she yawns, and it mesmerizes Santana, who continues to trace her fingers lightly against the blonde's stomach, their faces only inches apart. Quinn nuzzles closer to Santana.

"I totally wore you out, didn't I," Santana smirks against Quinn's lips. Quinn only hums in response, marinating in the feeling of soft lips brushing against her own lips gently.

Santana studies Quinn in the fading light. She thinks Quinn is absolutely breathtaking and more, with her golden blonde hair and contagious smile. There's something in the way the blonde acts that draws Santana to her. When Quinn opens her eyes to look at her, she feels it. There's a simple intimacy in the way those hazel eyes capture her and turn her heart into jelly.

"I can hear your thoughts, they sound like elephants," Quinn rolls her eyes. Her toes brush against Santana's cold feet as she gazes at Santana underneath her eyelashes.

"Go out with me," Santana blurts out. _Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. I did not just say that. Shit._ Santana's heart is beating fast now; Quinn hasn't spoken for a good three seconds, and judging by the look on her face, Santana probably doesn't want to hear it.

"W-w-what?" Quinn asks. Santana wishes she could take it back, maybe it was too early, but it's already out now. What's done is done.

"Go on a date with me," Santana says again, this time with a little more confidence. Quinn sighs deeply.

"Santana…" This is it. The rejection. Santana's heart already strains with hurt, and her mind is chastising herself for being so stupid and ruining the best thing in her life. She knew she should've kept quiet, but she couldn't help herself. _Stupid, stupid! Of course she doesn't have feelings for you. Stupid!_

"That wasn't part of the plan," Quinn finishes. Santana bites her lip.

"I know, but-"

"Santana, we agreed on this casual sex thing, remember? No feelings. Feelings always screw things up," Quinn says, and Santana's heart clenches painfully.

"But, well, what if I don't want this to be a casual sex thing anymore?" the brunette asks shyly, looking away from the blonde. Quinn's mouth falls open in a perfect circle. Santana feels vulnerable in the silence that follows, and it has nothing to do with the fact that she's bare naked under the covers.

"I don't…I don't get…" Quinn tries to find the words but her speech fails her.

"Quinn," Santana says, "let me take you on a date."

"Why?" It's almost a dare, a challenge.

"Because I want to. I've been thinking a lot these past few weeks, about us, really. And…I…I like you. A lot. You're beautiful, charming, and sexy. You're smart and funny and you make me really happy. You're all I can think about. I just…I want to try this," Santana gulps. She's not usually one for this kind of sentimental stuff; in fact, she despises it. But this is Quinn, and Quinn has a way of tearing her walls down that makes Santana _want_ to do this, _want_ to romance her with cheesy sayings and lovey-dovey stuff.

"I don't know…" Quinn says slowly. By this point, Santana's desperate. She's poured her heart out, made herself completely vulnerable, she needs more than this. She wants more than this.

"Please?" Santana whispers. "Just one? If it doesn't work out, we can go back to keeping it things casual, it's just…Just one? Please?" Oh God, what's happening to her? Oh, that's right. Quinn. Quinn, the only one that can make her beg on her knees for just about anything. Because, let's face it. Santana never begs. Until Quinn that is.

"See that's thing, Santana. We can't. I can't. It won't be the same," Quinn tries to fight back.

"What do you mean? It'll just be us. It's always us."

"No, that's not what I meant," Quinn sighs. "Like I said, feelings mess everything up. Someone will get hurt, and I don't want that to happen. I don't want to lose our friendship."

"We won't lose our friendship. We've gone through shit and we're still here," Santana pushes. She's not ready to give up, not yet, even when her heart is literally splitting into two.

"I can't," Quinn repeats.

"Why not? It's just one date."

"I'm not gay." The statement makes Santana laugh.

"Not gay, are you, Quinn? Then what exactly is this, hmm?" Santana gestures to the space in between their naked bodies.

"You're just my stress reliever, that's all." A look of guilt and regret flashes across Quinn's face immediately after the words leave her mouth, but she can't change what she said.

"Just a stress reliever. Huh," Santana spits out. She tries to mask her pain by cracking her a smile, but it ends up looking like some sort of grimace.

"I'm sorry, Sanny," Quinn says softly. She hasn't used that nickname for Santana since the fourth grade, and it makes Santana's heart clench more painfully, if that's even possible.

"Whatever."

"I'm going to sleep," Quinn announces. "I'm tired and it's late." She turns away from Santana, her back towards the brunette. Santana's face contorts in pain; she squeezes her eyes shut and takes slow, deep breaths. It's not supposed to hurt this much but it does.

Santana rolls to the edge of the bed, as far away from Quinn as possible. This is the first time in two months that they're not spooning. And honestly, Santana misses it. A lot. She misses the way Quinn melts into her arms, the way her blonde hair tickles her nose. But Santana's too hurt to care.

She moves her head up to look at the clock. The first thing she notices is that her pillow is damp, and so is her face. She's crying. The second thing she notices is that it's only 9:45 pm.

Last Friday they stayed up til two.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you guys so much for all the follows, favorites, and reviews! You guys are my inspiration!**

* * *

When Santana wakes up, still in a slow haze, it's to an empty bed, the pillow still imprinted with the shape of the blonde's head. Santana finds herself nuzzling into Quinn's pillow, breathing in a scent that is purely Quinn. She almost starts to smile at the comforting smell, when –

Oh.

The events of the previous night come crashing into her with such a force that she screams and throws Quinn's pillow off the bed, pent up with hurt frustration.

She can't help but feel disappointed that Quinn left. She expected it – it was such a Fabray thing to run away as soon as things got complicated – but there was a pathetic side of her that held the smallest sliver of hope that maybe, well, maybe she'd stay. But she didn't.

Santana wants to scream at Quinn for hurting her, scream at herself for being so weak and exposed, but most of all, she wants to scream at her feelings for fucking everything up.

So she does. And she punches a wall, too.

Her bedroom door, er, curtain, goes flying open, and Rachel and Kurt appear, Rachel with half her makeup on, and Kurt in the middle of his morning skin procedure.

"Oh my God, Santana, what happened?" Rachel gasps as she inspects the damage on the wall. If Santana wasn't so hurt, she would've laughed – one of Rachel's eyes has full-on eyeliner and mascara, and it looks comically larger compared to the eye that's still makeup-free (oh, the wonders of makeup). Rachel sets down her tube of mascara and rushes closer to the girl on the floor.

"I'm fine, guys, seriously, I-" A terrible sting shoots up Santana's arm, making her yell in pain.

"Santana!" Rachel cries out. "Kurt-"

"I'm on it," he says, and goes to grab his phone and call an ambulance.

"I think you broke your wrist. What did you do?" Rachel bites her lip, worried.

"Punched a wall, duh. Or are you too short to see the frickin' hole?" Santana spits out, but Rachel's lived with her roommate long enough to know that it isn't anything serious.

"I know, Santana, but why?"

"Cuz I wanted to, I don't know." Santana doesn't want to talk about _her_; it hurts too much. More than her broken wrist.

Rachel shuts up because she notices how Santana's eyes aren't as bright anymore, how her body seems to slump on the floor. And then she notices how Santana's room seems…almost empty. There's something missing, or maybe, some_one_. And if Rachel had her suspicions, well, this definitely clears it up.

Rachel and Kurt accompany Santana to the hospital. Santana's too lazy to tell Rachel that half her face looks like a clown and the other looks like a baby's bottom, but at least Kurt has the decency to wash whatever lotion-skin cream-thing was on his face.

Santana insists on a bright pink cast because it's her favorite color. Or, well, it was Quinn's favorite color, but it soon became Santana's too because it reminded her of Quinn's pink hair way back in high school. That and Quinn likes to wear lacy pink underwear from Victoria's Secret.

Maybe the pink cast was a bad idea though, because every time Santana looks it at she thinks of Quinn, and thinking about Quinn hurt. But at the same time, the cast gives her this unexpected boost of confidence.

She's Santana Lopez. She doesn't get rejected that easily. No, Santana Lopez doesn't go down without a fight.

So on Monday, when she can't fight her feelings anymore, she calls Quinn. (Isn't three days the proper amount of time to not seem desperate?)

"Hello?" the blonde's voice sounds distant and wary on the other line.

"Go on a date with me." Straight to the point.

"Santana, I told you-"

"I miss you, Quinn."

"I miss you, too, and I'm sorry but-" It's Santana's second rejection by Quinn and it hurts Santana even more.

"Sorry but what? You're not gay? We're just fuck buddies? You know what, screw this. Screw you. I knew this was a bad idea."

"Sanny-"

"Nuh uh, you do not get to call me that."

"Ok, Santana-"

"Bye." Santana huffs out angrily and hangs up the phone.

It was all a bad idea. Stupid hot pink cast.

* * *

Rachel's been watching Santana closely for the past few days. She's quieter now, her insults less threatening. She isn't the first one to finish breakfast anymore, but now she's the first one to go to bed. Something's wrong, and Rachel thinks that something has a blonde head of hair and a knack for running away.

So the next Wednesday, while Santana and Kurt are out grocery shopping for next week's Very Berry Pancake Sunday, Rachel sits down and dials Quinn.

"Hey, Rach!" Quinn greets.

"Where were you last weekend?" Rachel asks.

"Huh?"

"You missed out on Very Berry Pancake Sunday. You never miss those. Where were you?"

"I um…I had things to do…" Quinn's voice is quieter, more morose.

"Things like breaking Santana's heart?"

"W-w-what do you mean?" Quinn asks nervously.

"I mean, why has Santana been moping around the past few days? It's like living with a zombie, and believe it or not, I almost miss her insults. She's not the same. So I'm asking you. What did you do?"

"I…I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't play dumb with me, Quinn. I know something's been going on between you and her. I have ears, you know. Yeah, Kurt and I try to leave the house as much as possible, but sometimes when we come home early, we hear you guys whispering to each other. And giggling. So don't think I don't know what's going on, Quinn. Because I do."

"Nothing's going on."

"Well something must be."

"Well, it's not anymore. It's over."

"It can't be over if it never even started," Rachel shakes her head.

"Rach, you don't get it. I…can't. I can't be with her. I need something casual, but she wants something more, and I don't know if I can give it to her. I don't how to," Quinn admits quietly. Rachel's heart softens at her friend's words.

"Quinn, does Santana make you happy?"

"Uh yeah, I guess. I don't know."

"She makes you laugh a lot."

"She does."

"Does she do nice things for you?" Rachel inquires.

There's a small pause and then Rachel hears Quinn say, "Yeah." Rachel smiles. This is getting somewhere.

"Do you do nice things for her?"

"I don't know. I mean, I guess. Well, I wasn't that great with her last weekend, no. But other times, yeah. I made Santana her mom's special burritos once. Or at least, I tried to."

"Do you make Santana happy?"

"Do I?" Quinn asks in a tiny voice.

"You do. You make her so, so happy, it's almost disgusting." Rachel says, and she swears that she can almost hear Quinn smile.

"So why are you denying it? You like her, she likes you, so boom! You become girlfriends and all."

"Rach, it's more complicated than that."

"So what is it?"

"I don't…know how to be with a girl. I don't even know if I like girls. And I like Santana too much. If I screw things up, I'll lose her. I don't want to lose her, Rachel," Quinn whispers.

"Quinn, Santana's been in your life since first grade. I don't think you'll ever lose her even if you tried."

"I-"

"No, Quinn, don't start lying to me. Don't do that bullcrap." The line is silent for a moment.

"You think Santana still likes me?"

"Why don't you come down next Friday and find out?" Rachel suggests.

"What if it's too late?"

"Just think about it," Rachel pushes.

"No promises," Quinn states.

Rachel takes that as a yes.

* * *

It's Friday, and it's Santana turn to ride the train. Usually, she'd be a block away from Quinn's dorm by now, but instead she's cooped up on her bed, watching old reruns of How I Met Your Mother.

Rachel and Kurt are out doing some NYADA thing, and Santana has the place to herself. The silence is nice, it's calming, it lets her forget about…

_Ding dong._

Santana huffs. Who the fuck thinks they can just interrupt her HIMYM marathon time? Hmm?

Santana is about to go all Lima Heights Adjacent on that motherfuckin' doorbell ringer when she opens the door and -

"Hi," Quinn says shyly. biting her lip. She's holding a box wrapped in shiny wrapping paper and hot pink flowers. Her honey blonde hair is in loose curls, and she's wearing a pink dress that hugs her curves. Santana's favorite of her dresses.

Santana's heart quickens. What was Quinn doing here? She's so happy to see the blonde, she just wants to run into her arms, but then she remembers everything that went down with Quinn, and instead, her face hardens.

"Go away."

"Santana-"

"Go away," she says again, and slams the door in Quinn's face. She hears Quinn sigh.

"Santana! Open up!" Quinn is knocking on the door rapidly, and it quickly becomes annoying, almost aggravating. Why can't Quinn see that she just wants to be alone?

"Go away!" Santana shouts again.

"Santana, please! I'm s-"

"Just leave me alone! Go find another stress reliever! You know what-" Santana runs into Rachel's room and opens the bottom drawer of her nightstand. She grabs the vibrator inside (she found it while snooping last week; she _knew_ the hobbit wasn't as innocent as she preached) and then runs back to the front door, opens it, throws it at Quinn, and shuts the door hard. "There! Now you got a new fuck buddy! Now can you just leave me alone?"

Santana hears Quinn sigh again. It almost breaks her heart, but she's too stubborn to open the door again.

When Quinn starts sniffling, Santana wants to rip open the door and hold Quinn in her arms, but she can't. Quinn's hurt her twice, and she can't lose her pride now. She continues to listen to the sound of Quinn sniffling. She forces herself to not feel, to just not feel anything, and then all the pain will go away.

Quinn knocks twice on the door and says shakily, "Okay, I'll go. But don't think I'm giving up. Cause I'm not. I'll be here next week, whether you like it or not."

By the time Santana's found the courage to open the door, Quinn's already long gone.

* * *

"Santana, why is my vibrator on the doorstep? Did you go through my stuff again?" Rachel asks as she and Kurt return home from their outing.

"No, Quinn did," Santana mutters, and then shuts herself in her room.

Rachel just smiles knowingly.


	3. Chapter 3

"Kurt," Santana half-whispers as she shakes the boy's shoulder. "Kurt, wake up!"

"Hmm?" he mutters groggily, stifling a yawn.

"Kurt, I need you to help me choose my outfit for today."

"Your outfit? Santana-" Kurt rolls over on his bed to face his alarm. "Ohmigosh, Santana! It's only 2 AM!"

"So? Don't you and Berry usually wake up at this time and like, do plastic surgery on your face or something?"

"Santana," Kurt whines. He's so tired that he doesn't even try to bitch back to the fiery brunette. "Can't this wait til later?"

"No, this is important," Santana insists.

"And why's that?"

"It just is."

"You're not going to tell me why it's so important that you have to wake up at 2?" Kurt smirks because he already knows the answer, via Rachel.

"Cuz I'm important, Porcelain, now get your ass out of bed and make me look sexy!" Santana grabs his arm and tried to pull him from his sheets. But Kurt won't give in until he gets what he wants.

"Is it because Quinn's coming today?" Kurt's smirk grows wider, if that's even possible.

"What? No," Santana scoffs, but then she drops Kurt's arm and looks down as she starts to fiddle with her hot pink cast. "Ok. Yes. Maybe. I don't know."

"Well?" Kurt pushes.

"Ok, so maybe I was up all night thinking about her, ok?! Jeezes, are you happy now? Now hurry up, because I barely slept and it feels like shit," Santana huffs.

"Ok, ok! Your cheeks are burning, by the way."

Kurt slaps Santana's ass playfully as they head to her room in the dark.

* * *

All in all, it takes five hours for the two divas to finally settle on an outfit: a tight, red dress that hugs Santana in all the right ways. Santana almost squeals happily when she tries it on (oh God, what is Quinn doing to her?), and she doesn't even care that the bright red clashes terribly against the hot pink of her cast. Screw her injury; the dress is perfect. Kurt just smirks and winks, but when he notices that its already 7, he's out the door in seconds with a, "It ain't plastic surgery! It's just lotion!"

"Lotion doesn't take 12 hours to put on, Porcelain!" Santana yells back, but Kurt is already bickering with Rachel about how she's always hogging the bathroom mirror. Santana turns back to look at herself in the mirror, smiling giddily. Quinn was going to drool; she just knew it.

After taking the dress off to save it for later, and changing into more comfortable sweats, Santana waltzes into the kitchen. The exhaustion she had felt only hours ago is gone and all that floats through her mind right now is _Quinn, Quinn, Quinn._

Rachel and Kurt both look up in surprise when the Latina starts humming as she tries to pour herself a bowl of cereal with her good hand.

"Well, someone's in an awfully good mood today. It's almost scary," Rachel comments. And then as an afterthought she leans over and whispers to Kurt, "I think we're finally starting to rub off on her."

"Say that again and I'll slip chicken liver into your pancake batter on Sunday," Santana threatens.

The rest of breakfast is quiet, but only because Rachel's pancake batter is to-die-for (although Santana would never admit it).

* * *

When Rachel and Kurt have left for their classes at NYADA, Santana finds herself sprawled against the couch, anxiously playing with her phone. The TV is on, but she isn't paying any attention to it. She didn't want to mention it to the other two, but she can't stop thinking about Quinn's promise to come back. She's missed Quinn a lot, almost too much.

And now that Friday is finally here, she's ready. She can't wait to see those mesmerizing hazel eyes again.

But it's only 9 in the morning, and she knows that Quinn has classes. Like the idiot she is, she checks her phone to see if Quinn has tried to text or call or contact her in any way.

Nothing. Just like it has been for the last two weeks, her phone is silent.

Santana chastises herself when she feels her heart sink with a heavy sigh. She hates how disappointed she feels – like if maybe Quinn really wanted her, she would've fought for her in any way. Including phone.

But Quinn's been eerily silent, except for when she'd shown up last week, and Santana can't help but think that maybe this was too good to be true. Maybe Quinn didn't want her enough to even freakin' call her.

Santana lets out a long groan. She hates how Quinn always fucks up with her feelings. She turns Santana into an ooey-gooey ball of mess, and Santana hates it. She hates it.

Santana checks her phone again, because she really is an idiot, but also because she can't help the sliver of faith that sits in her heart, hoping that _Quinn Fabray_ will appear on her phone screen one of these days.

By noon, Santana's checked her phone 37 times.

By one, 52 times.

She two-thirty, 77 times.

But nothing appears except for her home screen: a photo that Rachel had took (that sneaky bitch) of her and Quinn sleeping peacefully in bed. Santana hasn't had the heart to change it. She looks like a blob of dark hair, but Quinn looks like an angel with her blonde hair framing her face, not a single strand out of place. How she does it, Santana doesn't know, but it makes her fall for the perfect blonde even more.

Santana checks her phone for the 78th time, and the photo comes up again. Santana moans in frustration. She hates that she's turned into this desperate couch potato, and it's all because of Quinn. Stupid Quinn.

By 4 in the afternoon, Santana's given up all hope. Quinn's classes had ended at 1, and that was plenty of time for her to get her ass down to New York like she promised.

Usually on Fridays, Quinn's already in Santana's bed by 3.

* * *

It's 5 o'clock on Friday afternoon when Santana finally drags herself off the couch with her third broken heart in two weeks.

* * *

Rachel calls Santana a little later to let her know that she and Kurt are going to some NYADA-nerd party and won't be back til midnight. Santana's voice is too fake and too happy when she tells her roommates to have fun and "be good little mutherfuckers."

Just as Santana hangs up the phone, there is a knock at the door. Santana almost drops her phone in surprise as her heart starts hammering from the inside of her chest. She can't help the smile that spreads across her face as she moves to the front door.

Finally. Quinn's here.

Santana opens the door, expecting to see a gorgeous head of blonde hair and green hazel eyes.

Instead, she's met with ocean blue.

It takes a minute for her to realize who it is, and even though her heart shatters for the fourth time, she smiles again.

"Brittany!" she says, opening the door even wider. "Ohmigod, I can't believe you're here!"

"I missed you too, Santana," Brittany smiles as the two girls hug. "How's New York?"

"It's great. Berry and Porcelain too. But don't tell them I said that," Santana says quickly. Brittany giggles as she walks into the apartment and takes off her coat.

"Don't worry. I won't." Brittany's eyes widen. "Ohmigosh, San, what happened to your arm?!"

"Eh, I broke my wrist," Santana waves it off.

"Doing what?"

"Stupid shit. It's nothing really. So what are you doing in New York, Brittany?"

"It's a three-day weekend. I have an interview with MIT."

"MIT?! Ohmygosh, Brittany, I'm so proud of you! That's amazing!" Santana gushes as she hugs the blonde again. "Wait…but isn't MIT in Boston?"

"Yeah," Brittany giggles, "but I thought I'd come and visit my best friend first."

"How sweet," the Latina chuckles. "Where's Sam?" The last time Santana had seen Brittany was at Mr. Schue's not-so-much-of-a-wedding. At the time, it had hurt to see Brittany in the arms of another man, but ever since her thing with Quinn had started, she'd forgiven her first love. She knew that Brittany was a carefree spirit, and she didn't want to stand in the way of that. They were back to best friends, and best friends only, and Santana had Quinn now, or at least, she kinda did. Okay, not really.

"Sam's staying in Lima to take care of sick family," Brittany says.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"It's ok, I get to see you!" Brittany nudges Santana, who smiles back in return.

"But really, Brittany, MIT…Wow, that is so amazing. I'm so excited for you."

"Thanks, San. I'm excited, too. So, how 'bout you? Anything exciting going on here?"

"I started working at a bar," Santana offers.

"That's great, San!"

"But I haven't exactly found anything I want to do yet."

Brittany nods in understanding. "It's ok. You have time. If you need any help, Lord Tubbington is always open. He just got his license to become a therapist."

Santana just laughs.

"I've missed you so much, Britt," she says, wrapping her arm around her best friend again.

"Me too," Brittany smiles. They're still hugging (for Santana, it's one-handed hugging) when there's another knock on the door. Santana wrinkles her eyebrow in confusion.

"Who the hell is-" Santana opens the door, her good arm still wrapped around Brittany.

"Hi."

Santana's body freezes at the familiar voice, the voice that's been haunting her dreams.

Quinn is standing outside the apartment, a gold box under one arm and a large bouquet of red flowers in the other hand. She's wearing a simple blue dress, with her hair in light curls and a touch of makeup. Her hazel eyes dart from Santana's stunned face to the hot pink cast on Santana's arm to the way Santana's other arm is draped around Brittany's shoulder. The small smile that was on her face immediately vanishes, and her shoulders seem to droop when she notices Brittany.

"Quinn," Santana says simply. She's in a mixed state between shock and happiness and even a little bit of anger, and she just can't seem to figure out her emotions.

"Hi. I um…I thought we were going to…but um…I didn't mean to interrupt you. I'm sorry, I didn't know you were busy. I'll just, um, go then…" Quinn turns around quickly so that Santana won't see the tears in her eyes. She's too late.

"Wait, Quinn," Santana calls out softly. She lets go of Brittany, who is watching their interaction with curiosity. Quinn turns around again, biting her lip and looking at the ground.

"Look, Santana, it's ok. I have homework to do anyways. I'll just-"

"No. Stay here for a minute," Santana almost begs. "Please."

Quinn just nods, staring at the flowers in her hand.

Santana turns to Brittany.

"Britt, I-"

The blue-eyed girl smiles knowingly. "Go for it," she whispers.

"Thanks, Britt, I'm sorry we couldn't hang out today." Santana gives Brittany a one-armed hug.

"It's okay. But Lord Tubbington expects a phone call about this!" Brittany smirks and then walks out the door, leaving Santana and Quinn alone.

"So…" Santana begins, turning her attention back to the blonde beauty in front of her. "What are you doing here?"

"I um…" Quinn blushes. She looks nervous and her eyes dart everywhere except for Santana's face. Santana watches as the confident HBIC she once knew becomes a blubbering mess. "These are for you." Quinn says quickly as she shoves the box and the flowers into Santana's open hands.

"Thanks," Santana smiles.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Quinn says sadly. "I um…"

"You're here now," Santana offers, wanting to put the blonde out of her misery. Although, she must admit, a shy Quinn is absolutely adorable.

"I was, um, wondering if you wanted to um…go out to dinner with me?" Quinn's voice cracks in the middle as she tries to rack up enough courage to maintain her composure.

Santana's mouth opens slightly in shock. Her heart is jumping up and down and she can feel the butterflies in her stomach.

But Quinn can only see a frozen Santana staring back at her, and the little confidence she had continues to diminish.

"If you don't want to, it's ok, I-"

"No!" Santana almost yells, which makes Quinn jump back in surprise and confusion. "Um, I mean, I would love to have dinner with you, Quinn."

Quinn's face breaks out into a grin, and Santana's heart swells.

* * *

Dinner is a heavenly affair. Their normal banter is back, and they continue to laugh at their waiter, who is on his first day of the job, and keeps dropping his pen clumsily.

Santana never wants this night to end. Quinn is sitting across from her, her head thrown back in laughter – and Santana loves it. Under the table, Santana's foot is playfully nudging the side of Quinn's foot, and Santana sighs warmly at the contact. It feels like heaven, and she never wants to go back.

During the walk back home, (Santana had complained that she felt like a bloated whale and needed to walk off the calories) Quinn stays close to Santana's side. Every time their hands brushed against each other, Santana has to swallow down the hitch that catches in her breath. She wants nothing more than to reach out just a little bit further and take Quinn's hand in hers, but she's too nervous to try anything.

Santana almost laughs at how much of a pussy she is now.

But Quinn, on the other hand, has turned silent, almost morose. She walks with a heavier step, and continues to look at the ground. Santana studies her, but does not say anything. She doesn't want to interrupt the silence that surrounds them, that cuts them off from the rest of the world.

She loves being in this little bubble with Quinn.

A few more minutes pass until the two girls find themselves back at the apartment. Before taking her keys out, Santana takes a deep breath and turns toward Quinn. In a sudden burst of confidence, she grabs the blonde's hands. She has to suppress the smile that creeps up on her face when Quinn doesn't protest.

"Spit it out, Fabray," she says finally.

"What?"

"I said, spit it out. You're all quiet and weird and it's creeping the fuck out of me," Santana answers honestly. Quinn is staring at her with an unreadable expression on her face and it makes Santana's heart beat even faster.

Quinn stays quiet for so long that Santana is about to open her mouth to ask the question again when –

"Are you and Brittany back together?" Quinn asks suddenly, loosening her grip on Santana's hands.

"What?" Santana doesn't get why Quinn is suddenly asking this now.

"I saw you two together today and – I don't know, I just wanted to know if you just agreed to dinner with me out of pity, or –"

"Of course I didn't. I wanted to spend time with you. I missed you," Santana steps closer to Quinn.

Quinn lets out the breath she'd been holding, relief washing over her face.

"You're not…um, you're not still…in love with her, are you?" the blonde asks almost shyly. Santana chuckles at how cute Quinn looks.

"Quinn," Santana says, "Brittany is and will always be my first love. She's gorgeous and funny and sweet…"

With every compliment that Santana says about Brittany, the tiny smile on Quinn's lips grows smaller and sadder. The sparkle in her eyes vanishes and is replaced with tears. Santana notices it and pulls Quinn closer to her.

"But," Santana emphasizes. "She's not the girl I'm in love with."

The smile that spreads on Quinn's face is the cutest, sexiest thing Santana's ever seen in her life, and she can't help but lean forward and kiss Quinn with a passion that she's never felt before in her life.

Quinn's hand moves up to rest against Santana's cheek as they stand kissing under the moonlight.

They only break apart long enough for Quinn to whisper against Santana's lips, "I love you, too."

* * *

**A/N: So, how was that? Should I write another chapter? :)**

**Oh, and thanks for reading, reviewing, etc, etc, etc. You guys always make my day 10x better!**


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